Disclaimer:House, the show, and House, the character, are the creations of the brilliant David Shore and belong to him et al.I am merely writing this for entertainment purposes, with no monetary gain to myself, and absolutely no copyright infringement is intended.

Author's Notes:

First, thanks to `lablanche' for providing me, as always, with her support, praise, criticism and invaluable advice while acting as my editor for this story.It was hard to venture back into the world of fanfiction after being away from it for several years, and I am thrilled and honored that she agreed to undertake this journey with me.Any and all errors remaining in this work of fiction are strictly my own fault.

This House fanfiction was conceived and written during the barren era of the writers' strike, in between the airing of `Don't Ever Change' and `No More Mr. Nice Guy'.Although most, if not all, fanfiction ventures into `Alternative Universe' territory at some point, the events portrayed in this story are designed to be consistent with the canon of the `House' universe as it was at this point, near the end of the fourth season.I state unequivocally that the story was conceived before I had heard of any `spoilers' for the two-part cliffhanger.So, any similarities in plot are completely coincidental, or else prove that there are only so many storylines available before you get duplication.

Anyone wishing to take issue with any of the diagnoses, prognoses, or any other noseses portrayed herein is advised to remember that this is a work of fiction, and that the actual writers of House often venture into an area where the reality of a genuine disease is stretched to the breaking point for the purpose of providing entertainment. I speak as a person with over with twenty-five years of experience working as a Medical Technologist.What's a Medical Technologist you say?Those are the people who actually staff the laboratories to perform the testing of the samples and who, along with the invaluable phlebotomists, are the ones usually drawing the blood.If Princeton-Plainsboro magically survives without these people (along with a wide variety of other medical professionals), I hope I can be forgiven for doing my own stretching of the absolute medical truth in this story.

As to why I'm writing this story:David Shore created a fascinating character, but without Hugh Laurie's brilliant portrayal, I believe he would never have succeeded in creating a series built around a lead character whose behavior is so magnificently appalling but at the same time never less than absolutely mesmerizing.To cap it off, whenever Mr. Laurie and Ms. Edelstein appear together, the chemistry between their characters makes the air crackle with excitement.In response to the question of what would happen should their characters ever end up in bed together, executive producer Katie Jacobs said:"That's kinda interesting."

I completely agree.Here's my version of how it all happens.

Chapter One:In the Wee Small Hours of the Morning

As Dean of Medicine at a large teaching hospital, it was not unusual for Dr. Lisa Cuddy to be awakened in the middle of the night.Amazingly, the interruptions to her slumber were not always the work of her brilliant, impetuous and infuriating head of Diagnostic Medicine deciding that 2 o'clock in the morning was the ideal time to be ringing her phone, knocking at her door, or tapping on her bedroom window.There were several evenings when some actually quite sane and sensible person with a legitimate concern or question had found it necessary to communicate a problem to her immediately, regardless of the time.

Though, of course, no one besides Dr. Gregory House took such a sadistic delight in ruining her night's sleep.Anyone else would begin the conversation by apologizing for the intrusion.Dr. House was likely to inquire as to what she was wearing (presuming he was not there to leer at her in person).

On the night our story begins, Cuddy was having one of her bizarre recurring dreams wherein she found herself suddenly transported back in time to medical school.She was literally running all over the University of Michigan campus, desperately trying to locate a lecture hall where a particularly important final exam was about to commence.Although she wasn't quite sure what class it was for, she was absolutely certain that if she failed the exam, she would flunk out of the medical program.

But she would arrive at the appointed room only to find a notice posted on the door announcing that the site for the exam had changed.Inevitably, the latest testing venue would be on the other side of the campus, so she would set off on a run in a new direction.As if that weren't bad enough, it would periodically occur to her that there was some very important chapter that she had somehow neglected to study.So she would stop for a moment and paw frantically through her textbook, trying to cram some data into her brain even though the words swimming in front of her eyes seemed maddeningly meaningless to her.Then she would set off on a run again, wobbling slightly on ridiculously high heels and pushing through crowds of laughing, oblivious students as she continued on her journey towards her increasingly elusive objective.

So it was actually with some relief that she found herself suddenly jolted awake and sitting half-way up in bed.She opened her eyes for just a moment, assuring herself that it was still dark, and that she had not been awakened by either the ringing of her cell phone, or the buzzing of her alarm, and then shut them again.She felt cold, physically drained and emotionally exhausted.Her body was shaking and her breath continued to come in ragged gasps as the last remnants of her nightmare slowly faded away.

Startled, her eyelids flew open again and her heart, which had just started to return to a normal rhythm, began racing wildly again.There was a warm hand squeezing her right shoulder and the voice had been unmistakably male.

"What?" she sputtered, sitting up completely and moving her head in the direction of the speaker.

But the man had already removed his hand and was turning over in the bed, facing away from her.

"You were having one of your nightmares," he said, bunching the pillow under his head and settling back down to sleep."Hey, stop hogging the blankets," he murmured, reaching back to tug at the bed clothes.

The voice sounded tired, irritated and frighteningly familiar.

Dumbfounded, she allowed him to pull the quilt over to his side of the bed while keeping the sheet wrapped around herself.

Automatically, she turned her head to the left to check the time on her clock and found herself blinking in surprise.Although there was a nightstand to her left, it was covered in stacks of books and compact disks rather than her familiar lamp and clock.

She swallowed and tightened the sheet around her body, finding herself shivering again from a combination of cold and fear as she attempted to make sense of the situation.

She was not in her own home.

She was naked.

And she was in bed with-

"House?"Her voice sounded strangely thin and shaky.

She heard him sigh.

"You were having a nightmare," he repeated, sounding increasingly grumpy."Go back to sleep," he commanded.

Now, it has to be understood that Lisa Cuddy, as she had once actually mentioned to House, liked sex.Liked it a lot, actually.And there were times when her libido had driven her to some spectacularly hasty and, in retrospect, awful choices in lovers.But if she had occasionally awoken harboring immediate regrets regarding what she done while in the throes of passion, she had never before found herself in someone else's bed without the slightest idea of how she had gotten there.

It was, to say the least, unnerving.And, since the man in question was House, her immediate relief that she at least recognized her bed companion was more than counterbalanced by the knowledge that she had inexplicably ventured into extremely hazardous territory.

She heard him sigh again.

"You're not going back to sleep, are you?"This verdict was delivered in that resigned, deprecatory tone he reserved for anyone, be it a patient, colleague or employer, who was too stupid or stubborn to follow his eminently sane advice.

She opened her mouth, but not a single word came out of her throat as her mind continued struggling to comprehend the situation.She could only stare, dumbly, as he turned onto his back and yawned, his tall, thin body arching languidly as he stretched.

For some reason, her body seemed stubbornly unwilling to comply with this quite direct and sensible command being issued by her mind.Instead, she remained frozen in position, watching as he closed his eyes and grimaced, his hand moving down to massage his right thigh through the layers of blankets covering it.

"Well, since we're both awake, I guess we'll just have to think of something to do," he said, suddenly opening his eyes as a decidedly rapacious grin replaced the scowl.

"Uh," she managed to croak, her eyes widening in terror as she realized his intentions.

"Oh, it's okay, honey" he assured her, a teasing yet undeniably lusty tone creeping into his voice as he rolled towards her. He waggled his eyebrows roguishly."I'm up anyway."